The second feature animated film by Latvian director Gints Zilbalodis received many important awards, including Un Certain Regard in Cannes as well as an Oscar for the best animated achievement. Flow (Straume) is a moving story about a group of unexpected companions who find common ground in unusual circumstances. They, like water, constantly ebb, adapt, and transform.

The reflection of the cat looking at itself in a small pond is the first scene in the film, which is soon interrupted by imminent danger. This scene sets the framework for the action and determines the key motives: water, self-reflection, loneliness and the coming scourge. When a flood of biblical proportions changes the appearance of the landscape in which the action takes place, a few outsiders are forced to work together to overcome the adversity that has befallen them. The flood myth has been present since ancient times in numerous cultures, and in narrative works, such as the Epic of Gilgamesh or the film The Beasts of the Southern Wild, it almost always leads to some metamorphosis and rebirth – ebbing, dissolving, dying. Therefore, the plot of this kind of odyssey moves downstream, mimicking the flow of an unstoppable torrent.

The main character is a gray, wayward cat who, like all cats, leads a solitary life. When the cat finds itself in a small boat, it has to let go, dive and learn to cooperate in order to survive. Its companions – a caring but sluggish capybara, a curious but possessive lemur, a noble but strict secretarybird and a playful but naive labrador retriever, exude a strong and convincing characterisation. Although otherwise social animals, they choose to break away from their communities and behave contrary to what is expected, accepting excommunication and swimming to meet a new family, first out of urgency and then out of necessity.

Just as the protagonists reject the conventions, so does the deviation from today's most common depiction of animals in animation – anthropomorphization is limited to emotions and actions, while physical features, including speech, i.e. its absence, remain at the fauna level. Watching such an achievement reminds of the effectiveness of films without dialogue and their philosophy of showing versus explaining. Music, sound design and body language then play a key role in building the overall impression, and all feelings are read from facial expressions and other non-verbal signals.

The style of animation is in many ways reminiscent of a video game – this reduction in the field of texture is compensated for by the masterfully animated physicality of the characters themselves, which is so convincing and lifelike that we can forget we are watching the drawings in motion at times. The completeness of the experience is also achieved by a multitude of long dynamic shots – such a floating, completely fluid perspective reveals a harsh post-apocalyptic world and intensifies the feeling of tense uncertainty.

With the return to the mainland, this exciting heroic journey ends, and each member of the group has changed, finally accepted as an individual and an irreplaceable part of the collective. Flow ends where it began – in the water, in the reflection, only now, the alienated cat was joined by others. The unspoken language of communion has overcome differences, and the strong tide of a world that constantly flows and tries to drown us.